


your every touch reaches my soul

by Chromaticism



Series: A Partnership Forged in Mutual Vitriol [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Sex, Canon Character of Color, Intrusive Thoughts, Love Confessions, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Obsession, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Soulmates, Tactile, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 14:43:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14404293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chromaticism/pseuds/Chromaticism
Summary: Quick smutty one shot based on a soul mate AU. No, this isn't a blatant advertisement for what may come in my longfic. Don't be ridiculous! Comments are nice, by the way.





	your every touch reaches my soul

"Boy! We're not running a spa in here. Hurry up!"  
  
Harry fumbled with the shower controls with a curse before switching off the water. Stepping out of the shower with a sigh, he took in his reflection with a grim expression. The tattoo was as pristine as ever, unmoved and unmarred. Harry was now certain it wasn't ink. No, the jolt of sensation when he touched it screamed magic to Harry. But what type of magic?  
  
As he dried himself, he considered sending an owl to Dumbledore or Hermione, but just the thought was enough to send an all-encompassing sense of wrongness through him. It was enough to send him to his knees. On his knees in front of the mirror, the tattoo on his right thigh was entirely visible, yet the sight seemed to reinvigorate him rather than anger him, erasing the wrong feeling almost instantaneously. The name, Blaise Zabini, taunted him anew with its vague familiarity. Harry was certain that they were a wizard and someone he'd seen before. It was an unnatural certainty that felt, in some ways, like that previous sense of wrongness.  
  
It had only appeared this morning and now Harry seemed to be stuck with it, and for some reason, Harry didn't feel the concern that he should have been feeling. Oddly enough, as he walked out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, he had the feeling that everything would work out soon enough.

* * *

 

Soon enough turned out to be the train journey to Hogwarts. Everything seemed to come together when he stepped into Slughorn’s compartment. There was a tall black boy sat at the table, dressed in a plain white shirt that hugged his body, showcasing his broad shoulders and toned arms. When Harry’s eyes met his dark, slanted ones, the mark on his thigh seemed to burst into life from the dull thrumming pulse it’d adopted since he’d stepped foot on the station. It became thunderous, filling Harry with an alien joy and desire that he could not reconcile as his own. At that thought, the feeling intensified, making it hard to breathe. Harry didn’t know how he managed to get to his seat, but he must have done it independently and without any strange behaviour as no one had commented.

Introductions came and went, they shared a meal, and Slughorn brown-nosed and bragged. It all meant nothing to Harry, nothing compared to the source of obsession sitting across him. He still couldn’t look away, and neither could the boy he now knew to be Blaise.

He was beautiful, yet Harry was sure that even if he looked like Aragog or Grawp he'd find him to be one of the most beautiful beings in existence. His mark pulsed insistently as if it was an immutable truth.

They had to speak. Harry felt like the world would end at any moment if they weren’t able to speak privately.  
  
"Hermione, I'll meet you back in our compartment. I need to use the loo," Harry said, perhaps a little more loudly than necessary.  
  
He dared a look at the black boy sat across from him. There was no visible reaction from him, but as Harry began to feel a surprisingly heart wrenching sense of disappointment, he nodded just the slightest bit.  
  
The wait felt like a lifetime, but the door slid open eventually. It was with profound relief that Harry saw that it was Blaise. He let the tall, black Slytherin into the tight space in a hurry that he didn't quite understand. Before he could even speak, before the door had completely shut, Blaise was upon him.  
  
The last kiss Harry received had been like kissing a wet towel, in all honesty (weepy Cho hadn't been sensual in the slightest), but Blaise kissed him with a surety and a desperation that shocked Harry. The feel of his full lips against Harry's, tongue following in not a moment later, had Harry returning it with his own desperation. As they pressed closer and closer, the mark on Harry's thigh throbbed more and more until the only things Harry's senses were attuned to were its unceasing pulse and Blaise.  
  
It felt like both an eternity and an instant had passed when they separated.  
  
"I just knew I needed to speak to you," Harry said, saying the first thing on his mind.  
  
"Just speak?" Blaise said, eyebrows aloft.  
  
The Slytherin shook his head in disbelief before taking off his shirt. On the mocha of his skin, from the left side of his hip to his navel, was Harry's name. Transfixed, Harry reached out to touch. Blaise moved closer, took Harry's hand in his own, and pressed it against the warmth of his skin. Harry didn't think he'd ever be able to let go. The sense of rightness almost made him feel dizzy.  
  
Blaise hissed. "Do you know what this means?"  
  
Harry just followed his name with his eyes and his fingers. His traitorous mind was fixated on the idea of licking along his name and the Slytherin's toned abdomen with his tongue. Eyeing the hefty bulge in the Slytherin's jeans, Harry didn't know if he'd even be able to stop there.  
  
"Soulmates," Blaise said, breathing heavily. "Very rare."  
  
Just the mere mention of the word made Harry kneel and smooch the mark that bound him to Harry. It was like pressing his lips against a lightning rod. He could feel the pulse of heady magic from it like a second heartbeat in Blaise's silken skin.  
  
Blaise cried out, almost sounding like he was in pain, but he cupped Harry's head hard against him. "Fuck," he whimpered. "Do that again."  
  
Harry didn't know how long he was down there just making love with his mouth against that brand of addictive magic, but his hands had made at least a dozen circuits around Blaise's hips and waist, and Blaise's voice was on the verge of fraying.  
  
Harry parted from the heat of Blaise's body with a long lick. He stared up into Blaise's wide eyes, deciding that thunderstruck Blaise was one that he liked seeing. "Tell me more about our bond."  
  
Blaise audibly gulped at him as Harry rose to his feet, licking his lips. Harry was certain he could taste the magic.  
  
"They're not always romantic, or even sexual, but you can gather the nature of ours. Every time you touch me, I think I'm going to..."  
  
"Burn?"  
  
Blaise nodded with a shudder that wracked his entire body. "It just feels so _right_.”  
  
"Too right," Harry mumbled.  
  
It made sense. The unnatural fixation he had for the Slytherin had been all-consuming since he'd seen him on the station. The magic in the bond made looking at the Slytherin, touching the Slytherin, and being in the same room as the Slytherin feel rapturous. The little part of Harry still capable of independent thought realised that this meant he'd never be alone again. How could he be alone when he had a soulmate?  
  
That balm of a thought was quickly overridden by the sight of Blaise taking off the rest of his clothes. Harry watched in silence, pinned in place by Blaise's hooded eyes. Apart from his shoulders, Blaise was lean with a good level of tone to his body, visible abs and well-developed pectorals, that Harry hadn’t seen since Oliver Wood had been at Hogwarts. His muscles were made prominent by the fact that he was almost entirely hairless bar the smattering of pubic hair around his cock.  
  
“You’re beautiful,” Harry said.

Blaise smiled at him. “As are you. Show me,” he said huskily.

As Harry began to undress himself, unbuttoning his shirt, Blaise tried to aid him with one impatient hand before pulling out his wand and vanishing them, leaving him naked, with an impatient jab. His Invisibility Cloak and wand fell to the floor without a sound.  
  
"I'll buy you new ones. I swear," he muttered before grabbing Harry's firm arse. "Better than those ill-fitting clothes."  
  
Harry couldn't find the urge to care about the loss of one of the few outfits he liked or Blaise's offhand comment. Not with Blaise's lips once again on his own and his cock rubbing against his own.

“You’re beautiful,” Blaise murmured back at him between feverish kisses.  
  
Between the soulbond induced haze and Blaise's fervour, Harry managed to wrap his hand around both his and Blaise's length.  
  
Harry quite liked the contrast between them: the rose and angry red of his erection, and the umber and plum of Blaise. It was an attractive sight between his fingers whenever Harry managed to pull his eyes away from his name adorning the left side of Blaise's hip to his navel. There was a feeling of rightness, like everything was right in the world, a true sense of timelessness, evoked by the exposed mark of belonging on his thigh and on Blaise's abdomen. The feeling seemed to be trapped behind the moans bubbling in his throat, in the violent beating of his heart, and the constant pulse of his right thigh.

"Sit on the toilet," Harry ordered.

Blaise did as ordered and Harry crawled between his legs, eyeing the throbbing cock before him. It was darker than the brown of Blaise’s body, almost black, with a pink-purple head. He seemed by sight to be bigger than Harry, perhaps an inch or two longer and a shade thicker.  
  
Harry had never done this before, but he knew he wanted to do it. With the bond, it felt like that was all that was necessary, that was all that mattered. Desire.  
  
Blaise groaned deeply as Harry's lips wrapped around his plum-coloured glans. As Harry's tongue spiralled around his cock, Blaise bucked underneath him. When Harry rested a hand on Blaise's mark and suckled on his shaft, he trembled violently with a moan before falling back into the porcelain.  
  
"Don’t stop,” Blaise murmured.

Harry didn’t really know what he was doing, but whatever he was doing was working well enough. Blaise’s soft moans and groans were more than enough to make Harry ignore his throbbing cock.

Alternating between gentle lashes of his tongue, suction whenever he took Blaise’s cock in, a hand manipulating the mark on his abdomen, and his hand working along the half of Blaise’s cock he couldn’t yet handle, Harry managed to work Blaise towards orgasm in what felt like little time at all.

It didn’t taste particularly nice, Blaise’s seed, but Harry thought he could come to enjoy it. Harry pulled Blaise down by the chin and kissed him. He didn’t even react at finding that Harry hadn’t swallowed, simply kissing him more firmly. Eventually, following a long swap of the large wad of cum, Harry swallowed it.

Blaise slid down to the floor beside him, staring at him with an awed expression.

“Let me return the favour,” Blaise said.

Harry took his place on toilet, and when Blaise buried his nose in Harry’s pubic hair seconds later, Harry thought he might just be the luckiest boy in Hogwarts.

* * *

 

"Harder," Harry demanded.  
  
Blaise smirked down at him, and the grip around his calves pushed down, moving his knees down to his shoulders. At this angle, the sight of the black cock between his pale cheeks and inside his hole was especially distinct.  
  
Harry watched as Blaise sunk into the hilt once more with a firm clap of flesh. The full sensation when Blaise was in to the point his balls pressed against Harry always made Harry feel a little impaled. The feeling was especially intense in this position, but he’d learned to like the line between pain and pleasure that they flirted with when they played rough.

Blaise pulled out to the head, unbearably slowly, then slammed back in with a sudden thrust of his hips. Harry stifled his answering yelp, sounding more like a dying frog if anything.  
  
Blaise's lips twitched violently, and he gained force. The loud clap of Blaise’s hips beating a tattoo against Harry’s arse resounded throughout the room, almost drowning out Blaise’s low moans and Harry’s whimpers.  
  
"Too much for you?" Blaise panted between loud smacks of his hips against Harry.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Harry wheezed, holding onto Blaise's shoulders for dear life. "You're being..."  
  
He gurgled stupidly as Blaise altered his angle to begin jabbing at his prostate. His own cock dripped like a leaky faucet on his stomach.  
  
"I'm being what? The best fuck you'll ever have?"  
  
Any response Harry could offer was masked by Blaise's hungry lips, and Harry moved one hand down to his cock to stroke himself before he possibly died.  
  
Blaise came inside him with a low cry of his name. He continued to thrust inside Harry as he emptied himself. Harry came a second later, clenching erratically around Blaise’s slowly flagging erection.  
  
"Hard enough?" Blaise asked when Harry had been driven adequately insensate.  
  
"Acceptable," Harry croaked.  
  
Blaise hummed before smiling happily at him. "I'll just have to try harder next time," he said with a laugh before pulling out.  
  
With Blaise no longer inside him, he felt like he’d been hollowed out. The sensation of Blaise’s cum slowly oozing out of him was one he was familiar with at this point, and he ignored it. Instead, he focused on the powerful burning of his arse. "Perhaps not that hard next time."  
  
Blaise pulled him forward into his lap, embracing him tightly. "Are you in pain?"  
  
"I'll live," Harry said. "If you could hold me up a little, it'll be better."  
  
Harry didn't mention that he had little control of his legs at the moment. Blaise wasn't the type to brag, but he did always acquire a silent air of satisfaction when this happened that always drove Harry up the wall. It was so infuriatingly smug.  
  
Blaise nodded seriously, and his hands pulled Harry completely into his lap, leaving their legs intertwined and stomach to stomach. Then he lifted Harry by the arse, reducing the amount of pressure considerably.  
  
"Like this?"  
  
"Yeah," Harry said with a sigh ridden with palpable relief.  
  
"Good," Blaise murmured. He smoothed Harry's brows with a gentle press of the thumb on his free hand. "I hate to see you in pain, Harry."  
  
Harry had always thought it was inevitable that he'd fall in love with Blaise. The bond itself only made that a guarantee with the mutual addiction it fostered between them, but he frequently said things that made the part of Harry not under the sway of the bond consider that maybe in another lifetime, this could have happened without magical interference. The thought warmed him immeasurably.  
  
"I'm happy you're here with me, Blaise," he said.  
  
Blaise nodded at him. "As am I."  
  
It was these moments that Harry truly lived for: the press of skin and mark against each other, and the steadiness of Blaise's heartbeat against his own. The sex was good, but the slow, quiet moments were better.  
  
Harry decided he was quite liking sixth year. Draco and Voldemort aside, Quidditch was great, classes were going well (transfiguration especially - with all the beds he and Blaise were conjuring and transfiguring, they were near top of the class), Hermione and Ron were too busy bickering with each other to irritate him, and Blaise just served as a wonderful bonus.  
  
They didn't always fuck, though when they did, it almost always involved Blaise on top. Whilst Harry would've liked more opportunities to fuck Blaise, the rarity of it made the act itself all the sweeter. Everytime, he made it his mission to make Blaise beg. Not always successfully, but more than enough to make him not kick up a fuss. It helped that Blaise always found his prostate with an uncanny accuracy. He was in good hands.  
  
Sometimes they just sat together and cuddled, exploiting the tactile nature of their bond. Others, they talked - he learned of Blaise's family, his friends, and his fears. Harry had found it altogether too telling, and quite sad really, that Blaise had not asked Harry if he had any dreams after asking about his fears. It made him wish that the Mirror of Erised was still around.

It was with dreams in mind that Harry finally ventured one of his own, one he’d buried deeply for at least a month. "Come to Hogsmeade with me," Harry said.  
  
Blaise laughed at him, though Harry knew him well enough at this point to recognise the happiness in his dark eyes. "Asking me out, Harry?"  
  
Wiggling his arse in Blaise's lap resulted in Blaise's soft cock twitching underneath him. Harry just enjoyed the sight of Blaise's lips parting at the sensation.  
  
"We've been shagging all over the school for the last two months? Why not?"  
  
He moved one of Blaise's hands, that had been idle on his hips, to his thigh. He groaned low in his throat at the familiar jolt. "And we're soulmates."  
  
"That we are," Blaise murmured.  
  
He brought Harry forward, forehead to forehead. The hand on his thigh grasped him firmly and the other settled on his hip. Like completing a jigsaw puzzle, Harry's hands found their way to Blaise's complimentary mark and to his cheek. Harry watched with a soft smile as Blaise's eyes fluttered a little at the feel of Harry stroking around his mark.  
  
"So, will you come to Hogsmeade with me?"  
  
"I'm in Slytherin," Blaise said as if Harry had yet to notice.  
  
"And there I was thinking that the green and silver represented Hufflepuff," Harry drawled. He stroked a finger along his name beside Blaise's navel, smirking triumphantly at his ensuing sigh. "Go out with me?"  
  
Blaise sighed but his smile was still present. Harry wasn't nervous, as he knew deep down that Blaise wanted it just as much as he did. Their connection was one that made it easy to gauge the other's mood.  
  
"It won't reflect well on you," Blaise admitted. He met Harry for a toe-curling kiss. As they parted, equally breathless, Blaise gave Harry's thigh a cloying squeeze. "Gay and dating a Slytherin?"  
  
Still feeling the pleasant heat that came with his tattoo being manipulated, Harry had to shake his head to escape the all-consuming nature of the sensation. "You think that you're not worth a proper relationship?"  
  
Blaise scoffed. "It's not a matter of worth. It's a matter of easing the pressure on you."  
  
"I can deal with the pressure, Blaise," Harry said.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"It'd be worth it to be able to touch you in public."  
  
"Just touch me?" Blaise whispered.  
  
Harry blushed. "I'd like to be able to stand beside you, you know? I'd be proud to have you as my boyfriend."  
  
Blaise was silent, and Harry rushed to fill the silence. "That's if you want to that is."  
  
"I hope you know that I love you, you idiot,” Blaise said incredibly matter-of-factly.

Harry had long suspected it. After all, it was an inevitability, but it was another thing to hear it.  
  
Harry stared dumbly. "You do?"  
  
Blaise sighed. "Yes."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Not the most promising response," Blaise drawled. Despite his seeming nonchalance, Harry was deeply disturbed by his immediate move to disentangle their legs.  
  
Wrapping his legs tightly around Blaise's waist, Harry pressed his full weight onto him with a grunt. The pain was back, but it would have to be ignored.  
  
"Don't move. Talk to me," Harry said.  
  
Imprisoned between the rub of Harry's thigh against his left side and his weight, Blaise just stared at him coldly. "What else is there to say?"  
  
"How do you know it's not just the bond?"  
  
"The bond just magnifies sensation and emotion,” Blaise explained as he had done multiple times before. “Perhaps it hurries along the progression of... whatever we are, but I know I love you."  
  
"I don't think I could live without you," Harry admitted, wanting to offer at least something in return.  
  
"Is that all?" Blaise asked with a challenging smirk on his face. He leaned forward, framing Harry's face in his hands. "You just can't live without me?"

Harry had to force himself to look at Blaise.

"I wake up and you're the first thing on my mind. When we're in Slug Club, Potions, Defence…  anywhere together, I want to just talk to you like the friend that you are to me, but I can't. I think that hurts the most," Harry said. The taken aback expression on Blaise's face was more disconcerting than it was comforting. How could he not know how desperately Harry wanted to be around him? "When I play Quidditch, all I can think about when riding my broom is riding _you_. I'm obsessed."  
  
"Love and obsession are far apart, Harry," Blaise said with a gentle kiss. "I care about you. So much. All I want is the best for you. Your continued safety, your happiness, and your success are more important to me than my own."  
  
"It's the same for me, but I'm scared that what I'm feeling isn't authentic," Harry said.  
  
"I know," Blaise said with a gracious nod. A sea of butterflies erupted in Harry’s stomach at the sight of the smile on Blaise's face. It was a little fragile, almost timid. "Learn with me? Authenticity, that is."  
  
"Learn with you," Harry repeated.  
  
Blaise nodded with a little squirm beneath Harry.  
  
"Well, there's no one else," Harry remarked with a broad grin. "I'd love to."

Blaise exhaled through his nose in a rush. "You won't regret this," he said with a conviction that Harry had never heard from him before.  
  
"No," Harry remarked, watching the seriousness in Blaise’s expression. "I don't think I will."  
  
As Blaise pulled him deeper into his body heat, Harry acknowledged that his mark didn't react anymore. That haze of must-touch, must-admire and must-feel whenever he thought of Blaise had finally ebbed. It was still there, niggling in the back of his mind, but not with enough force to cloud his thinking. Had it only been there to act as an impetus for an emotional connection?  
  
"Blaise, does your mark still give you sensation?"  
  
Blaise gave him a weird look. "Only during sex."  
  
"Mine has been reacting to my thoughts and emotions."  
  
Blaise rolled his eyes.  
  
"Probably because you're still fighting it," Blaise explained.  
  
"You didn't?"  
  
"Well, all I can say is that I hoped desperately," Blaise admitted. His seriousness broke for a moment as he gave Harry a salacious sneer. “It helped that I wanted you before the mark appeared anyway. You’ve always been sexy to me.”  
  
Harry was incredibly flattered, but he just couldn't quite picture Blaise as someone who hoped desperately. "Hope was enough?"  
  
Blaise took his time to answer, and when he did, he spoke with such belief that Harry could only listen rivetted. "At the time no, but since then my hopes and dreams have been well rewarded. You're everything to me, and I'll show you this one day at a time."  
  
Harry didn't quite know what to say to that, so he kissed Blaise instead.

* * *

 

When Blaise slid beside him on the Gryffindor table at breakfast the next day, all hell broke loose.

“What are you doing here?” Ron spat.

Blaise poured himself tea with a pleasant smile before giving Harry a peck on the cheek, and Ron dropped his cutlery on the floor, managing to spill a pitcher of pumpkin juice in the process. Harry took Blaise’s free hand under the table, enjoying the violent blush on Ron’s face far too much.

The low rumble of conversation around them seemed to die before exploding.

“This is my boyfriend,” Harry announced loud enough that half of Gryffindor and their neighbours in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw could hear. Within five minutes, the entire school would know.

“Oh, I… I’m happy for you?” Ron offered to Harry.

“Congratulations,” Neville murmured after returning to his eggs. “I hope you make each other happy.”

“Thanks, Longbottom,” Blaise said with a nod.

Neville gave him a tight smile in response.

Meanwhile, Hermione was beginning to master muscle control of her lips. They’d now simply slackened dramatically rather than flapped open and close like a fish. “This makes so much sense!”

“How?! Harry and a… a snake!” Ron exclaimed.

Blaise continued to chew at his toast with a content smile. Harry so badly wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t think Ron’s heart could take it.

Dean got out of his seat to pat Harry on the back, grinning at him for reasons unknown to Harry. “I’m happy for you, mate.”

Seamus nodded, though he had an expression that was more akin to Ron’s. Shell-shocked.

Malfoy, sat on the other side of the Great Hall, looked like he’d been forced to suck on a particularly bitter lemon. The two girls Blaise spoke of often, Tracey and Daphne, nodded at him when his gaze fell on them. The tanned brunette, who he was fairly sure was Tracey, drew her finger dramatically across her own throat before smirking. The blonde sat next to her just stared at Harry, and her cold eyes were infinitely more threatening than her friend’s gesture. Maybe Harry would feel threatened if he had any remote intention of hurting Blaise.

“Mind speaking? Introduce yourself?” Hermione asked.

Blaise looked Harry up and down, biting his lip. “No, I’d rather admire Harry.”

“Oh, yuck,” Ron said with a nervous chuckle as if to make clear he didn’t want to offend.

“Besides, you’ll get to know me in the future. I don’t exactly plan on going anywhere,” Blaise added.

Harry didn’t know whether it was Blaise being talkative, thanking Neville, smiling, or a combination of all of these, but Blaise’s response seemed to break Hermione anew.

“This is who Harry has been sneaking off to see,” Hermione said with the same mystified expression.

Yes, Harry thought that this breakfast would go down as one of his favourites. He leaned over to kiss Blaise’s cheek, glorying in the delighted cant his smile adopted.

“Ah, well. At least I’d gotten over Harry,” came Ginny’s voice from behind Harry.

“Oh, Ginny. Are you alright?” Hermione asked, latching desperately onto Ginny with her eyes as if she were one of the few things in the room that made sense.

Ginny blushed a deep crimson before taking a seat next to Hermione. “If this had happened last month, I’d be absolutely gutted.”

Blaise just hummed around a sip of tea. When he removed the mug from his mouth, there was a shit-eating grin on his face. “No hard feelings.”

To Harry’s eyes, Ginny appeared to rather angrily spear her sausages onto her plate in response to that. It seemed that Ginny wasn’t as nonchalant as she’d like to be.

“Hard feelings then,” Blaise remarked, coming to the same conclusion as Harry.

“Fuck off.”

“Watch it, Ginny,” Harry said to her.

She stared at Harry before looking away, dismissing him. Harry sighed before turning to Blaise.

“You know she’s good with her wand,” Harry whispered in Blaise’s ear. He didn’t think Ginny would be that vindictive, but it didn’t hurt to be careful.

“I’d love to see her try. Besides, you’ll get all authoritative and protective…”

Blaise’s voice lowered to the point it felt like he was only breathing in his ear. Harry shivered imperceptibly.

“And?”

“I think your whole saving people thing is hot beyond belief. You can save me any day, Harry. I’m not much of a damsel, but I guess I could wear my hair long and let you… _rescue_ me.”

Harry gulped, torn between amusement and arousal, and he dived back to his bacon before he got hard. Blaise just peered at him around his tea with a seductive smirk, uncaring of the students watching them unceasingly.

* * *

 

They left breakfast early, wanting to avoid any unwanted attention (like the dramatically sobbing Romilda Vane that Blaise had pointed out to Harry). As they made for the Entrance Hall, eager to get to Hogsmeade before the crush of the crowd, Snape appeared before them as if out of thin air. As usual, clad in his black voluminous robes and his typical sneer in place.

“I have been informed that the two of you have been comporting yourselves in ways inappropriate for a school,” Snape said.

Harry exchanged a bewildered look with Blaise. Did a peck on the cheek count as scandalous behaviour?

“No, we haven’t,” Blaise said. “I imagine Draco is just seeking to create a problem out of nothing. We’ve behaved satisfactorily.”

Blaise sounded convincing to Harry, and he didn’t dare say anything. As much as he wanted to interject, Harry had enough self-control to know that Blaise would come across far more sympathetically to Snape than Harry.

“There are no rules against your… fraternisation since Madam Umbridge quietly departed the school, but we do expect a level of decorum. With that decorum comes _discretion_.”

Blaise became ramrod still beside him, and Harry forgot how to breathe.

Snape sneered at the two of them. “I daresay that Mr Potter may learn something of subtlety through association with you, Mr Zabini. At least, I hope so. It truly is something we all need to bear in _mind_.”

Harry choked violently and immediately broke eye contact. Thinking of his obsessive though processes lately, he was mortified at the possibility of Snape, with his slimy, mind-invading, privacy-violating tendencies, having looked through his thoughts. Harry hoped he liked the sight of Blaise naked. There was a lot of that. Really, Harry thought at times that that was the only thing that went through his mind.

“I’ll teach him everything I know, Professor,” Blaise said grimly. His thigh rocked into Harry’s over and over.

Harry barely restrained a chuckle, thinking of all the things Blaise had taught him. “I’m an eager student,” he said sincerely.

Snape’s jaw twitched with irritation. “We’ll see. Good day,” he said and swept away without another word.  
  
Harry sighed with relief. That had gone far better than he’d expected, considering what he suspected Snape knew about the two of them. "Any idea why Snape was so happy?" he asked as soon as Snape was out of earshot.  
  
Blaise's face seemed to contort through several bizarre shapes as they walked onto the grounds.  
  
"No ideas?"  
  
His boyfriend's lips thinned. "Do you want to know my opinion?"  
  
Harry snorted. "Of course."  
  
Blaise sighed.  
  
"Don't tell me I didn't warn you," he muttered. "Snape is probably happy because the odds of you reproducing have declined dramatically."  
  
"I can still have kids!" Harry choked. “Does this mean Snape _approves_?!”

Nostrils flared, and eyebrows drawn towards his hairline, Blaise stared at Harry. He looked beyond disgusted.

"If you think that I'm going to let you go and fuck Weasley, you are sadly mistaken," Blaise said with impressive coldness, “and I don’t want to think about Snape anymore.”

Harry wholeheartedly agreed.  
  
"Who said anything about Ginny?" Harry asked. He grinned cheekily at Blaise's pinched expression. "No, I was more thinking Tracey. She's pretty enough, but if you’d prefer Ginny..."  
  
Blaise laughed. "I'll let Tracey know she meets your lofty standards, but I think you've forgotten some rather obvious things."  
  
"Hmm?" Harry asked.  
  
"Your beloved Ginny will be with Thomas soon enough,” Blaise said, smirking at the dawning comprehension on Harry’s face. “Also, you have my name written on your body. I'm afraid that makes you mine alone."  
  
"Pity,” Harry said.  
  
"Pity," Blaise repeated. He smirked broadly. "I'll remember that the next time I have my mouth on your cock."  
  
Harry blushed violently, remembering the last time Blaise had worked his magic on him. He'd given Harry the most leisurely blowjob in perhaps the history of Hogwarts in an abandoned classroom. Just remembering was enough to threaten to make him hard.  
  
"I can assure you that your blowjobs are far from a pity."  
  
"They are?" Blaise asked, deadpan.  
  
"Absolutely,” Harry said, nodding quickly. “On the other hand, unless you're offering right now, I think it's best we stop bringing up your skills."  
  
Blaise came to a sudden halt.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
Blaise rolled his eyes. "It's cold."  
  
"So it is," Harry agreed.  
  
"Harry."  
  
"Blaise."  
  
"Abandoned classroom?"  
  
"Whatever happened to Hogsmeade and discretion?"  
  
"I'd rather fuck you, to be honest," Blaise said with a shrug. "Hogsmeade will be Hogsmeade at the end of the day, but watching you take my dick up your arse never gets old. Snape? Well, we can always have sex under your Invisibility Cloak if you want. Throw in a Silencing Charm. It’d be fun."

Harry grimaced at the idea of the potential mess on his Cloak.  
  
"And they say romance is dead," Harry muttered, though his heart was beginning to race at the slight smirk on Blaise's full lips.  
  
"We're two teenage boys," Blaise said. "This is about as romantic as it's going to get." He took Harry's shoulders in hand before leaning in to kiss him.  
  
Harry didn't think he had much of an appreciation for romance, but he supposed that a long snog on a scenic path in the Scottish Highlands could be considered romantic.  
  
"I promise we'll do something romantic over the holidays, but as I said I'd rather just cuddle underneath a blanket than go to the Three Broomsticks, Honeydukes or Zonko's for the hundredth time."  
  
"Going to stay in the castle for Christmas?"  
  
Blaise nodded sombrely. "For you, of course."  
  
Harry shrugged, attempting to look casual, but obviously failing by the softness of Blaise's eyes. Deep inside, he prayed that the Weasley didn’t invite him for Christmas, but the odds of that were virtually nil. Looking at Blaise's easy smile at him, Harry resolved that he'd work something out.  
  
It was a little disappointing that they couldn't enjoy Hogsmeade together, but he'd gotten what he'd really wanted out of this. Now the only time they needed to sneak around was when they were shagging.  
  
"Can I go cuddle with my boyfriend now?" Blaise asked with that soft look that made Harry feel like mush.  
  
"Whatever happened to the fucking?" He asked.  
  
Blaise turned away from Hogsmeade, grinning at the battlements of Hogwarts standing tall in the sky. "Oh, that comes before. I thought that went without saying."  
  
He did always like it when Blaise got... demanding.  
  
"I love you, you know," Harry said.  
  
Blaise grinned at him. "Of course. I hope you know that commits you into spending at least an hour with me in an abandoned classroom."  
  
Harry grinned back, giddy and pleased beyond belief. "At least an hour? I expect to be impressed then."  
  
"Nothing less than the best for you," Blaise said.

“Damsel?” Harry asked.

Blaise laughed. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” he said. “Tomorrow definitely.”  
  
Giving a quick look at the sight of Hogsmeade cresting over the hill, Harry easily turned away also. His sudden turn back towards Hogwarts even surprised Blaise, making him grunt at the sudden pull on his hand. Releasing Blaise's hand, he began to jog back to the castle. With a chuckle, Blaise caught up quickly and snatched Harry's hand back within his own. Plodding ungainly through the deep snow together, Harry drew his wand out to vanish the snow before they ended up falling.  
  
"That requires far too concentration," Blaise purred. "Come on, Harry."  
  
Harry almost dropped his wand when Blaise began to sprint. Feeling the whipping of the frigid winter wind as they raced to the castle, Harry laughed, carefree.


End file.
